What a home means to me

My family, my pets and me, The shadows I see from my aging oak tree. It once was so little, it was planted for me, We grew together. We were the size of a pea. I would run with my brothers, cry and laugh with glee. I would even sometimes fall and bust up my knee. My bedroom is where I went from a crib to a bed. My mother once said it’s also where we read. I’ve had fairies leave me money in exchange for a tooth, I’ve had Santa over the years leave me quite a bit of loot. My home is where I get cozy at night, I know I am safe and everything will be great Even if my family gets into a fight. I climbed our stairs a million times, I now know which ones crack sometimes. The little lines with numbered dates, shows the years that have flown by. From tricycles to bicycles and most things with wheels, I learned how to ride on my street, this was a big deal. Oh all the memories with my brothers, cousins and friends We would play basketball, more fun games If I’m cold there’s a blanket, if I am warm I’ve got air. I wish everyone was as lucky because that doesn’t seem fair. Home is where I feel the most safe and most loved. It holds so many memories, Every scratch every chip there is a story behind If only the walls can tell you how many parties we have had. As I am writing what a home means to me, I think by now you must also clearly see, How special my house is, since this is the only one I know.

Amelia

6 Année

Pincourt, Québec

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